


No Such Thing As Right and Wrong

by Eva9250



Series: Here's our life [12]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Background Character Death, F/M, aw dont be sad it'll be okay, duel at high noon, justice or revenge?, old memories resurfacing, stop being shady jesse, they mess with his moral compass, we know who wins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-29 08:25:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8482477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eva9250/pseuds/Eva9250
Summary: McCree travels to Route 66 and ties up some loose ends





	

**Author's Note:**

> The world is filled with so much grey sometimes you forget there was ever supposed to be a black and white.
> 
> Takes place around the same time as the fic before this one

It had taken McCree longer to get to Route 66 than he would have liked, five days instead of three. The trip here had involved an airplane, a whole lot of hiking, a train, and a really, _really_ long walk to finally reach his destination. McCree wasn't out of shape by any means, but he was looking forward to a full day of just plain resting when this was over. He had managed to get some decent sleep on the plane ride, though now he owed a certain someone a favor, which he wasn't too happy with. At least he was guaranteed the trip back. If he made it back.

McCree shook his head as if to clear it. He was overthinking this. He knew where the Deadlock leader was hiding; the other man was alone as far as he could tell and had no idea he was coming for him. The plan was simple enough; take him out and then go home. Jesse would be -well, not _fine_ , exactly,- but he would live, and he'd come back to base to his darlin, and life would keep going.

McCree was pulled out of his musings when something caught his eye. He turned sharply, walking over to it. Hidden in the shade was an indentation in the cliff face, one that housed a door. He recognized it from his time in Deadlock; the door led to a small old bunker that had been repurposed as a warehouse by the gang.

He imagined the person he was looking for was hiding out here. He took Peacekeeper out of its holster and approached the door. When he pushed against it, to his surprise it was unlocked, silently swinging open. He frowned, tightening his grip on his gun. He made his way through the bunker, knowing the place by heart. A few minutes later he turned up empty. His target wasn't here, but he had seen signs of life during his search, so he wasn't entirely off the mark.

McCree put away Peacemaker for a bit so that he could rifle through the drawers of a desk. On one of them, he stopped. He reached in and pulled out a photograph. It was worn from age, but he knew who was on it. It depicted his target in what appeared to be a family photo. On his right stood his wife holding a baby, and on his left an older son smiled at the camera. They looked happy.

McCree focused on the son. He couldn't remember his name anymore, but he remembered the kid had only been a couple years older than him. They had met in Deadlock, been friends of a sort. The kid had died by the time Jesse was recruited by Overwatch; a random deal gone sour and a bullet to the chest was all it took.

His father had grieved for him, after which he had gone after the bastards, with Jesse all too willing to help. They had supported each other somewhat, united in their anger and mourning. It was the first time Jesse had seen the Deadlock leader as a person, as well as the last. Now he was after his life.

McCree blinked, snapping himself out of his memories. He was getting distracted. If his target wasn't here, then he'd just have to keep looking. He stepped out of the bunker, pausing for a moment to take in his surroundings.

The sun shone high in the sky, beating down on the sandy earth. The sky was a cloudless blue stretching out over the horizon. There was no wind to speak of, the still air stifling.  
His boots kicked up sand with each step he took, and made the only noise on this empty road. The cliffs towered over him and he could see the paths that led up them. Everything was soaked in with bitter familiarity. His old home, remaining always unchanged even with all the things that have happened.

McCree shifts his attention to a figure in the distance. He knows who it is. He watches them warily as they come closer, stopping several feet away. The man looks at Jesse, recognizes him.

"Heh, thought you would be looking for me. Still playing that cowboy act after all these years, kid?" The Deadlock leader has the audacity to _smile_ at him, unafraid of his death.

"Name's McCree. Use it." He growled back.

"I don't think I will, _cowboy_."

McCree bites down hard on his cigar, saying nothing as he shifts his stance and places a hand on his holster.

The other man is smart enough to take the cue that the conversation is over, mirroring McCree's stance.

Some detached part of Jesse's mind notes how cliché this is, a duel at noon.

"Draw."

Time slows as the word leaves his mouth. An eerie calm spreads through his body, lasting a split second before everything comes rushing back. He stands with Peacemaker drawn and smoking from the tip, watches as the body falls with a bullet between the eyes.

He's not sure how long he stood there, watching the blood slowly pool on the ground. Remembering the photograph, remembering his dead friend. Remembering that this man was once a person with a happy family, before he became a part of Deadlock. McCree was just as bad as him, if not worse. Was this really justice?

He shook his head. Now wasn't the time for second-guessing. He was done; he could go home now. But as he turned around to head back, he found that 'happy' did not describe the emotion he was experiencing.

Revenge is a cold feeling.

**Author's Note:**

> Have a happy weekend all you lovely people!


End file.
